The Maid's War (Kingfountain 0.5)

Genette stamped her foot. “I intend no trickery. Why are we debating this? We should be at Lionn already. Did I not tell you the power of the Fountain is with us?”

“You did,” Doone said with a grimace. “But surely it expects us to use wisdom and judgment. We’re gathering supplies for the army. Men can’t eat promises, girl. They need to be paid. How much longer will the supply wagons take, Alensson?”

“We almost have enough for the first month, but the captain of the supply wagons thinks the siege might take months, so—”

“Enough of this!” Genette interrupted. “We must go. We must go at once. We will break the siege in days, my lords, not months.”

Alensson stared at her in surprise. Had she seen this in the visions she’d told him about?

She nodded vigorously and pounded her fist into her palm. “Believe in my mission, lords of Occitania. Believe I am what I declared myself to be, or believe me not at all. We must ride today. The people of Lionn have suffered this siege for too long. Lord Tenby will not surrender the city to us easily. He will fight. But we will win. Send this letter ahead of us. Send a copy to Deford himself in Pree. No matter how much they try to prepare, they will fail. They may as well try and stop a flood.” Her words had an ominous sound to them.

Doone threw up his hands. “I’ll notify the prince that we are leaving now. We’ll see if he supports this risk.”

Genette smiled triumphantly. She turned to her squire. “Fetch my banner at once.”



Alensson had thought he’d have time to see Jianne before they departed for Lionn. The suddenness of their decampment prevented that, and he knew she’d worry about him, so he hastily wrote another letter to her to inform her of his departure and to seek her forgiveness for not coming, but he added that he hoped they would next meet in her liberated city. He rode astride a borrowed warhorse, next to Genette and her squire, down the dusty road toward the city of Lionn. There would be no disguising the army’s approach, and the letter had been sent ahead. Surely their enemies would await them.

Despite Genette’s confidence, which he had pretended to share while in Doone’s tent, Alensson was wary and had dispatched scouts to warn them of any ambushes along the way. There were none. It took the army four days to reach the town of Blais, but their progress was halted there when word arrived that the prince had changed his mind and commanded the army to halt.

The Maid was incensed by the sudden delay, but Doone refused to countermand the prince’s orders. The army camped outside the city, the men restless and eager to continue. Genette ordered them to continue drilling and training, but she chafed at the prince’s sudden change of heart, which she saw as a show of cowardice.

“Why must we stop here?” she complained to Alensson. “Lionn is only two leagues away!”

“The prince has ordered us to send scouts ahead to test the city’s loyalty. He fears we may be riding into a trap.” Alensson was equally impatient with the delay, but he understood the prince’s precaution. It was a sign of Genette’s utter conviction in the Fountain and her cause that she could not.

She gripped the hilt of her blade and scowled at him. “There is no trap! The city is weak and disheartened. But they are faithful to His Grace!”

Alensson put his hand on her armored shoulder. The sheen wasn’t as radiant after being buffeted by the dust of the journey, but it was still new. She was like a caged bear, full of pent-up fury. Looking into her eyes, he said, “You know that. I know that. The king is more cautious. We were defeated at Azinkeep. We were defeated at Vernay. The risk of another loss weighs heavily on him.”

Genette took a deep steadying breath and slowly released it. “You speak wise counsel, Alen. I will try to be patient.”



Her squire approached quickly. “My lady, Earl Doone requests that you both ride with his contingent and a small force to Lionn. Our scouts have returned. The city is loyal to us. The rest of the army will stay here until the prince approves.”

“Progress, at last,” Genette muttered under her breath. The delay had been for several days already.

Although they left the bulk of the army in Blais, they rode ahead with an escort of seventy knights—the primary nobles of the camp. No one wanted to miss the upcoming confrontation. As they crested the last wooded hill before reaching Lionn, Alensson pulled up his reins to gaze on it. He’d not been there for years, but it was a familiar and welcome sight.

The fortress of Lionn bore similarities to the city of Pree in that a river cut through it. Also as in Pree, the city had expanded in ever growing circles around both sides of the river, creating layer upon layer of defenses as the city swelled. It made defeating cities like this very difficult because penetrating one series of walls required piercing further obstacles. The Maid had said it would take a matter of days to liberate Lionn. Though he understood Doone’s doubts—he did not understand how such a thing could be possible—Alensson had confidence in the girl after seeing so many demonstrations of her powers.

Unlike Pree, where the two halves of the city were connected by many bridges, Lionn had only one bridge. The Ceredigic army had first successfully captured the smaller, western half—the part that lay before them—and it was manned by a garrison of enemy knights. Although smaller than the city on the other side of the river, it was very defensible, with a tower fortress butting up to the bridgehead. The wooden planks of the bridge had been dismantled by the city’s carpenters during the siege to prevent the soldiers from using it to cross. Only the stone arch supports were left. The river flowed swiftly, far too wide for an army to cross without boats. The rest of the Ceredigic army was encamped on the opposite side of the river, where they hacked away at the remaining defenses of the city. If they succeeded in taking Lionn, it would give them a huge stronghold from which to launch an attack on Shynom itself. The people of the city were hungry and frightened, but the progress of the siege had been slow. Alensson could see why. So many walls had yet to be claimed, allowing the inhabitants to hunker within them and ride out the storm. The Maid’s army would have the same trouble trying to drive the army of Ceredigion out of their portion of the city. There were fewer walls, but they were high, allowing the enemies an opportunity to shoot crossbows and rain stones down on those attempting to climb up. Alensson shook his head as he saw the smoke stains over the beleaguered city.

“Have courage, Gentle Duke,” the Maid said as she rode past him.